


the opposite of running

by thingswithwings



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-04
Updated: 2007-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a tiny little prompt-fic, post-Last of the Time Lords.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the opposite of running

Come with me, he says.

There was a time when it would’ve been everything Jack wanted: to move, to leave, to take the Doctor’s hand and Martha’s hand and ride off into the TARDIS together, just like the time when Martha was Rose and the Doctor was the other Doctor and Jack was just a con artist with a heart of gold, shucks mister, I’d love a wacky space adventure.

But he’s different, and the Doctor’s different, and looking at Martha is like looking at himself a year ago, a hundred years ago, a dozen lifetimes ago. Jack watches the Doctor’s trainers shift against the pavement and thinks, it’s worth it. He’s worth it. Run.

But Jack doesn’t; makes an excuse about his team, about his place on Earth. He tries not to notice as the Doctor’s eyes move away from his, losing interest, losing purchase.

-

A year later, a hundred years later, a dozen lifetimes later, the Doctor comes back to him. His face is the same and his grin is the same and his trainers are only a little more worn. He kisses Jack, the first time in this body, and it’s so good, for a while.

Come with me, he says.

Jack doesn’t, but he does call Martha. She goes instead.

-

A while later – Jack doesn’t keep track quite so well, after Ianto dies, after Tosh and Owen leave, after Gwen stops coming by – the Doctor comes back to him. His face is different, but his grin is the same, and if he’s traded his trainers for a pair of Doc Martens (“a pair-a-Docs, get it?”) they’re still worn on the heels, scuffed on the toe.

Come with me, he says.

Jack does, but it’s the opposite of running.


End file.
